Fight Fire With Fire
by igirisexual
Summary: Today, Wang Yao is due to get married to the audacious young Arthur Kirkland. But, prior to the actual wedding, he bumps into an old flame, his highschool sweetheart, Ivan Braginsky. The problem? Ivan's still in love with him, and Yao might just feel the same. RoChu/Tea Pair. Old Flame!AU.
1. Chapter 1

"Ivan?"

"Heavens, it's you, Yao!"

Yao gasped and smiled widely up at his old friend. "Oh my god, Ivan! I haven't seen you in years! How've you been?!" He chuckled and stuck his hand out for the taller man to shake, yet Ivan just stepped forward and pulled Yao into a tight embrace.

"I haven't seen you in so long," he breathed, nuzzling his chin against Yao's shoulder. "I am fine, but more importantly, how are you! Are you doing well? What are you doing in this part of the country?"

Yao laughed merrily, clinging to his friend. "I've lived here for years, Ivan, what are you doing here! Hell, I'm great," he chuckled.

Yao and Ivan had literally bumped into one another just a minute ago, having both been traversing a quiet street in Ontario. Once upon a time, they'd been highschool sweethearts. And they loved each other deeply, a true connection pulling them together. Yet, due to family complications and money issues, Ivan was forced to move back to Russia. Somehow, for some reason, he had returned, and Yao couldn't possibly deny just how happy he was. "I thought you'd gone back to Russia, you idiot," Yao wheezed, cuddling his old love. "Why haven't you called!"

"I lost your number," Ivan murmured softly, running his fingers through Yao's hair like he used to all of those years ago. "I am so sorry. I've been back in Canada for quite some time, actually," he breathed. "I didn't know you'd still be here."

"You ass," Yao cursed softly, gently punching Ivan's chest. "Christ, what are you beneath your clothes, a stone? So hard," he stammered, touching at Ivan's front.

"I have worked out a fair amount since high school," he mused softly. "If you're so desperate to get me unclothed, perhaps we should find somewhere private-"

"Shut up," Yao huffed, gently shoving him. "At least treat me to breakfast first."

Ivan shrugged, finding that a fair deal. As he glanced over Yao, taking in just how much more beautiful he'd become, he failed to notice the silver engagement ring upon Yao's finger. Perhaps that was because Yao hid his hand under his sleeve, and had his other held in Ivan's. They headed toward a small café, a homely and warm place that sold hot tea and coffee to thaw the soul in the cold of Canadian winter.

"Why're you back in Canada?" Yao asked quietly as that sat down at one of the tables. "I'm not complaining, but I'm curious," he coughed.

"Ah, well," Ivan mused quietly, raising a hand to summon a waiter. "I moved here- two mocha with a slice of both caramel cake and strawberry cake- because of that one boy, do you remember?" he smiled. Yao thought it a little funny how he'd just stopped mid-sentence to deliver such a clear and concise order.

"That one boy? You will need to divulge more information than that," Yao puffed, fiddling with his hair.

"Matthew, the boy who aced our French class." Ivan specified, reaching over and joining in playing with Yao's lovely hair. "We dated a while after you and I broke up. His brother had my Skype for some reason, and one thing led to another."

"Really?" Yao snorted. "He's so lanky and small, though."

"Puberty has hit him like a truck," Ivan observed. "He could lift a moose, Yao. A whole moose!"

"Really?" he mused, unbelieving. "Uh huh. Okay, what about Matthew?"

"Well, after long-distance dating for a bit, he bought me a one-way ticket to Ottawa," Ivan told, nodding. "So we moved in together, but that only lasted a few months. I suppose we were better expressing feelings through a screen," he shrugged.

"Aww, Ivan," Yao huffed quietly, petting his friend's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I wasn't really too affected- thank you-," he chuckled, before smiling up at the waitress and taking their food and drink. "I didn't really love him, and he didn't really love me. We were just close friends. Besides, I am still in love with you, Yao."

Yao fell silent, eyes widening as he tensed up entirely. "Y-you.." he paused, trying to choose his words carefully. "You're still in love.. with me?" he mumbled, feeling waves of guilt wash over him. "Really?"

"Of course," Ivan smiled brightly, taking a sip of his piping hot mocha. "Oh, why? Does that bother you?"

"What? No," Yao huffed. "It just.. Surprised me. I was not expecting that. I.." he paused, shifting his left hand under the table. Couldn't have Ivan seeing his engagement ring. "I still love you, too."

Ivan's face lit up like the Fourth of July, eyes going wide and a smile curling up the sides of his mouth. He seemed almost dumbstruck, in a way frozen, yet he was almost buzzing with excitement. "You do?" he smiled, putting down his mocha and grinning a chocolaty, goofy grin. "Yao!" Yao, beneath the table, was fiddling with both hands to try and get that damned ring off. It was a little small on his short and almost stubby fingers, so it was tight and pinching his skin. He had to keep looking up to Ivan, and then back down to his lap, and it was starting to get awkward as Ivan waited for his response.

"My, Yao," Ivan chortled softly, face still bright as a ray of sunshine. "If you're that excited about our love being true, perhaps we should take this to my apartment and not have you dirty your pants in a family establishment."

"Ivan!" Yao huffed, going quickly red in the face. "I'm not-.. I-.. That's not what I'm doing! Christ, Ivan, you haven't changed!" he yelped softly, finally getting the ring off of his finger. He almost had a heart attack when he felt it fall from his fingers, and he almost felt like crying when he heard it touch the ground and roll a little. He cringed.

"Are you masturbating?" Ivan asked softly, standing up and looming over Yao, looking down in his lap.

"You sound like your sister," wheezed Yao, lifting his hands and taking a quick sip of his mocha. "Don't be so verbal and uncouth about such things. I'm not doing anything like that," he mumbled. He'd get his engagement ring back later. He'd swing back here right before the wedding later this afternoon.

"Should we go to my apartment anyway?" Ivan queried, tilting his head curiously. "I _have_ missed you very much. And we didn't have sex much as teenagers."

"You're very straightforward," observed Yao, vaguely nodding. "Perhaps we should. And we'll just see about the sex, okay!" he huffed. "You're so upfront, Ivan."

"Why should I hide my true intentions?" he smiled sweetly, gulping down the last of his mocha and standing up. "Ah, as much as I love cake, I do not want to have to wait an hour before sex," Ivan frowned, looking down at his half eaten cake slice.

"That's swimming, Ivan," Yao reminded him. Perking up considerably, Ivan stuffed the last of his cake into his mouth and took Yao's hand, lifting him up to his feet too.

Yao couldn't help but catch some of Ivan's infectious happiness, and he found himself smiling as he was practically dragged down the street, his old friend laughing merrily and grinning like never before. Yao wondered if he was actually still in love with the man. Ivan's apartment thankfully wasn't very far away, and they reached it promptly. As they waited in the elevator, Ivan was seeming to bounce on his toes. Quite excited, it seemed. He smiled and danced awkwardly about, and Yao could only smile up at him.

"You seem positively thrilled," Yao mused quietly, watching Ivan hurriedly shift weight from foot to foot and stare at the floor number as the elevator went up.

"That is because we are almost at a point where we can make love," Ivan wheezed softly, eyes wide. "I want to make love to you very badly."

"Ivan," Yao whined quietly, gently poking the man's chest. "Should we? I mean, I-" Yao had a fiancé.

"We should," Ivan whispered softly, brows knitting together. "Why, is there a problem?"

"No, I love you," Yao mumbled, leaning in and putting his arms around Ivan's thick waist.

Ivan paused now, gently leaning down and nudging Yao's head back with a little touch of his nose. Once Yao's head was angled properly, he leant in, capturing Yao's lips in a single smooth movement. Everything seemed to fall in place perfectly, their lips meeting in a soft second that seemed to last forever. Despite that, it was still just a momentary affection, and Ivan slowly leant back. "I'm sorry, that was brash," he smiled a little, tilting his head. "I've missed you very much."

"You didn't even give me time to kiss back," scoffed Yao, reaching up and, by gently pushing Ivan's head with his hand, closed the distance between their mouths once again.

By the time they finally reached the right floor, Ivan only vaguely noticed where he was, and had to stumble out of the elevator, lips still firmly locked with Yao's. As tongues became involved, Ivan found it increasingly hard to concentrate on reaching into his bag and finding his keycard. "Yao," he mumbled between heated kisses, weakly opening his eyes and pressing his forehead against Yao's. "We should probably take this inside, mm?" he chuckled breathily.

"There might be children around," Yao mused quietly, still holding onto Ivan as the other man found his keycard and unlocked his door. Puffing, Ivan opened it, took he and Yao inside, and locked it again. "So devious, Ivan, making out with someone in a public elevator."

"I love you too much for decency," Ivan smiled faintly, tossing away his bag and slipping out of his shoes. Yao followed suit, and let Ivan take his lips again.

It was a hot mess of lips and tongue all the way to the bedroom, until Ivan took Yao's collar and gently pushed him down onto the plush mattress. He followed through with his movement, ending up straddling the man's hips and leaning down close to him, their lips meeting once again. "We're really doing this," laughed Yao between almost aggressive kisses. "It's been so long."

"Too long," Ivan chuckled, moving his kisses down to Yao's jaw and throat so that Yao could continue talking. He'd always been fond of Yao's voice, and it was almost a shame that kissing obstructed vocalization.

"Undress me," Yao commanded with a swaggering smirk. It took Ivan less than a second to have his hands beneath Yao's collar and hurriedly undoing the buttons along Yao's dress shirt.

"Why, of course," Ivan said quietly, kissing down Yao's soft chest as it was exposed. "You've grown some muscles of your own, Yao," he smiled, leaning away only to shed his own coat and shirt.

"Look at you! You are like a muscle factory," Yao wheezed, reaching up and touching Ivan's toned front.

"How's your sex life been?" Ivan asked casually as he pecked Yao's stomach and worked on getting the man's pants off. "When did you last have intercourse?"

"Now you sound like a gynecologist," Yao scoffed quietly, crossing his arms over his chest as Ivan lifted his legs and tugged his trousers off. "My sex life has been just fine. I've spent a bit of time with a man here or there."

"Ah, a man, alright," Ivan smiled, unaware that Yao was actually speaking of the man he was due to marry. "How was that man's performance?"

"Can't we just have sex and not have awkward questions," Yao whined quietly, staring up at Ivan almost incredulously.

"I don't want to hurt you, so I must take caution," Ivan huffed quietly, removing what little remained of either of their clothes. He lay back down, his flesh against Yao's, and just reserved a moment to fully take in what was about to happen. "I do have lube, though, don't fret."

"I wouldn't agree if you didn't," mumbled Yao, letting his hair out. "Arthur-.. Er, that's the man I had sex with a while ago, he didn't use lube the first few times and got mad at me for complaining about the pain."

"He sounds very terrible," Ivan scoffed, gently running his fingers through Yao's silky hair. "I would not want to have intercourse with him."

"Ah.." frowned Yao. "He is very rich, though."

"Money isn't that important, I don't think," sighed Ivan, gently kissing Yao's cheeks. "He sounds not very nice. Ah, but we should not be thinking about anyone else but each other right now," he smiled again, violet eyes soft in the dimmed bedroom light. "Do you want me to get the lube over and done with?"

"Yes, I'd appreciate it," Yao smiled, glad that he was with Ivan and not Arthur right now. Ivan was much kinder. Much more considerate.

Ivan smiled and leant away from Yao, rummaging about in his bedside drawer and extracting a small bottle. From it, he doused lubricant over the appropriate places, noting how Yao shivered slightly at his touch. "Are my fingers cold?" Ivan asked quietly, putting the bottle to the side and looming back over Yao.

"Only a little," Yao murmured, leaning up and kissing Ivan's lips curtly.

"Is it a problem?"

"No."

Ivan's fingers spidered gently along Yao's body, leaving cold trails that Yao could only shudder in response to. He smiled as his fingers moved lower, softly toying with Yao's more sensitive region. "What do you do with your hands, anyway?" Yao mumbled, tensing a bit as Ivan's cold hand wrapped around his lower area.

"Sometimes I masturbate," Ivan said faintly, smiling all the while. "But mostly I cook, clean, paint, photograph, you know," he chuckled. "I write sometimes, too."

"I-" Yao stammered, taken aback. "I meant to ask why they are so cold," he mumbled, embarrassed now. Thoughts of an orgasmic Ivan Braginsky whining his name started to creep into Yao's head, and he wondered if he was drooling yet.

"I have bad blood circulation," Ivan shrugged, watching Yao curiously as he toyed with him. "Does the frostiness bother you?"

"I'm more concerned about your health," Yao mumbled, shifting slightly in arousal. "Bad circulation? Can't you get help for that?"

"Probably, but I am not too concerned," Ivan shrugged. "If it bothers you so much, I may get it checked out, if only to ensure I give pleasant handjobs in the future."

"Ivan!" said Yao, feeling indignant. When he made this interjection, Ivan simply tightened his grip, and Yao regretted moving. "Less hand, please," he mumbled softly, flustered. "Kiss me, Ivan."

Ivan shrugged and did as commanded, first letting go of Yao's appendage, and second returning his lips to meet Yao's. Again, they fell into a clashing of lips and teeth and tongue, falling lost into one another's arms. At one point, Ivan began to gently grind his body against Yao's, unable to really hide his libido very well. All the thoughts in his head were telling him was that he wanted and needed Yao. As he felt Yao start to mimic his actions, he considered it being time for the main event.

"Are you ready, Yao?" he asked softly, voice a little husky as he was out of breath. Yao vaguely nodded his head, closing his eyes in anticipation. It did take Ivan a moment to calibrate his position, but once he was ready, he slowly pushed forward, entering Yao as gently and painlessly as he could. Yao gasped at the familiar feeling in his rear, but couldn't help feeling Ivan was so much larger than Arthur. It was almost kind of sad.

"Ah," breathed Yao, back curling inward a little as he tried to best accommodate Ivan. "Hell, you're still really big," he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter. "I don't know how I managed you as a virgin," he murmured, before pursing his lips.

"I was terrible at sex back then," Ivan shuddered at the memory. "Believe me, I have improved through practice and improvisation of new techniques."

"If you were terrible back then-" Yao started, but trailed off mid-sentence. "Oh. What have I gotten myself in for?" he laughed quietly, spreading his legs a little further apart.

"Would you rather I be rough or gentle?" Ivan queried, gently lifting up Yao's legs and instructing Yao him to put his ankles upon his shoulders.

"Why don't you start gentle and ease into rough?" Yao hummed, raising a brow suggestively. "I don't want to suddenly have my inner organs re-arranged when you thrust," Yao joked quietly.

"That's not how anatomy works," Ivan laughed. "Ah, but I understand your point. That I shall do, then."

Ivan started his movements soft and docile, gently swaying his hips back and forth against Yao's, wishing he had the diligence to both kiss and make love to Yao at the same time. Then again, if he was not kissing Yao while loving him like this, he got to see and hear those little moans Yao would surely start to make soon. He smiled at the thought, and continued bucking gently. As Yao's face grew redder, so did Ivan's pace grow faster and less controlled. Yao elicited a gasp for every pound of body to body, and a soft moan when Ivan managed to strike his sweet spot.

As the two of them felt the heat gather in their bodies, Ivan's movements became more primal and instinctive, and he was slamming himself rougher and rougher against Yao. This carried on until Yao let out a garbled cry and released, still trying to keep his body in time with Ivan. Ivan, in the heat of the moment, moaned out Yao's name, and gave him that final movement, the one that left both of their heads spinning, the pound that made them both see stars. Slowly, wearily, Ivan pulled out, lowering Yao's legs and shuffled over to lay beside him.

Their hands found one another, and their fingers laced like they'd been made for each other. "You're right; you have improved," Yao stammered, eyes closing in this state of euphoria. "You're brilliant, Ivan," he mumbled softly.

"I love you," he chuckled quietly, leaning over and softly kissing Yao's cheek. "I really do."

"I love you too," Yao said without even a second of hesitation, and they had their arms around one another quite quickly.

When they properly regained their senses, Yao slowly sat up, biting his lip. "Something wrong, Yao Yao?" Ivan asked quietly. It pained Yao's heart greatly when Ivan used that old nickname from highschool.

"Ah.. I should be going," Yao sighed, tying his hair back up in a ponytail. "I have.. work."

"Oh? What do you work as nowadays, Yao? Still have that job at that one bookstore?" Ivan asked sweetly, not even doubting Yao's credibility for a second.

"No way," Yao rolled his eyes, and searched around for his clothes. Ah.. He was running quite late already; he hadn't expected he and Ivan's lovemaking to go on for so long! He wouldn't be able to stop in at the café from earlier. "I'm a photographer nowadays."

"That's cool," Ivan hummed, slowly sitting up too. "Here, give me your phone," he cooed, and Yao cautiously obeyed. Smiling, Ivan typed in his number, and handed it back. "Call me, okay? I love you!" he cooed, one hand on his cheek.

Yao felt waves of guilt crashing over him, but he laughed and smiled and nodded his head a bit. "Alright. I'll.. see you round, mm?" he cooed, before gathering the last of his things and practically running out. He had a wedding to get to.

* * *

**its-a me, lanthe!**

**i've been soooooo distracted holy crapola (that pretty much means i've been playing a lot of pokemon and watching a lot of one piece and not concentrating on writing or drawing) but here i have for you a new fic! it's gonna be multi-chaptered! yo ho ho ho!**

**there'll be three chapters to this story, and i'm sorry, but i won't have regular update dates. i'll try to get it done as soon as i can, though, between school and other crap. please favourite, rate, review, etc. as you see fit!**


	2. Chapter 2

Yao whined uncomfortably as he stood about in the dressing tent, having his sister Mei furiously attack him both verbally and with his tuxedo. "Why are you here so late!" she cried, aggressively buttoning his undershirt's sleeves. "You are late to your own wedding, teacher!"

"I was running an errand and time got away from me!" he protested weakly, knowing that his words couldn't possibly quell her rage.

"You're missing your engagement ring!" she insisted.

"I was cleaning the sink and I forgot to take it off! It's in the plumbing somewhere!" he continued to lie as Mei shoved his arms through the sleeves of his tuxedo top.

"You are such a klutz," she huffed softly, seeming to calm down a bit now. "Honestly, teacher, you're lucky anyone wants to marry you."

"How cold," Yao gawped quietly.

When Mei finally finished with Yao's tuxedo, she brushed his hair manically before getting the help of fashion-expert brother Xiang to tie it up all pretty. Yao kind of just wanted to get out there already, and end Arthur's waiting. This was awkward enough. After about fifteen minutes of his younger siblings bickering over how Yao's hair should be done, Yao just undid it, put it in a simply ponytail, and straightened his bow-tie. "I'm going out now," he mumbled, which snapped the siblings back to attention.

"Right! You go, teacher!" they huffed in unison.

Yao took a deep breath and pushed through the curtains of the dressing tent, losing his breath once he saw the ceremony itself. Arthur was standing already at the altar, smiling faintly down at Yao and playing with his fingers in front of his waist. Slowly, Yao found his arm being taken in his father's, and he was lead slowly down the aisle. He glanced about for Arthur's brothers, but they were nowhere to be found. That was probably for the best. Flower petals were being tossed about, with some landing in the audience or in Yao's hair. He didn't move the ones from his hair, though; he thought they were cute.

At last, he joined Arthur at the altar, smiling up at him and trying to forget the previous events of today. "You're late, love," Arthur said with a little smile, taking Yao's hands in his own. "What kept you?"

"I woke up late and forgot I had an errand to run," Yao pouted, kicking his feet a little. He felt Arthur's fingers grace down his own, and his blood ran cold.

"Where's the engagement ring?" Arthur queried, furrowing his brow and speaking a little softer than before.

"I didn't think we'd need those today," Yao scoffed, making a quick save. "Where are your brothers? I thought at least Dylan would show up; he likes you somewhat."

"Allistor told them all I'm a pansy and that the wedding's off," Arthur mused. Yao sighed at his successful change of topic.

The two were hushed by the priest, who put a hand on either of their shoulders and smiled merrily. He was certainly a jolly fellow, and Yao knew him as little brother Kiku's friend, Feliciano. He was glad he wasn't just getting some stranger to read the whole marriage spiel.

"Dearly beloved," Feliciano started, voice stronger than it normally would have been. "We have gathered here today in the midst of our creator, our gods, or the science of the universe; whatever you wish to believe, to join together these men in holy matrimony." Yao and Arthur definitely exchanged glances, Yao feeling a little sick when he looked into Arthur's glazed over lovey-dovey eyes. God, was he doing the right thing? He'd literally just slept with another man! This was frightening, and Yao felt his stomach churn. Arthur, on the other hand, just looked so enamoured, so _in love_, as he smiled down stupidly at his partner.

"Which is an honourable estate, instituted of the paradise of beliefs, and into which holy estate these two great men present come now to be joined!" Feliciano recited, voice now booming down into the audience. "Therefore, if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace!" Yao had a just cause, indeed. But he couldn't just admit to it, could he? That would probably ruin Arthur's life, and stop him from trusting anyone ever again. On their wedding day, of all times! As the ring bearers approached, Yao was reminded just how broken Arthur's trust already was. And the guilt overran him, filling his every nook and cranny.

Alfred and Kiku stepped up to either side of the pair, waiting in silence as they waited to catch any possible objections. Not a single hand was raised; everyone seemed happy with this marriage. Yao was sweating bullets, yet keeping his smile and trying to look Arthur in the eye. He couldn't possibly hurt Arthur like that, he couldn't say no. Arthur was already a broken man, and Yao was a damned idiot to have forgotten that. Too long ago, Arthur had experienced a heavy falling out with his little brother, to the point where he'd smacked the boy after he'd run away for a few days, and Alfred had stabbed him in the chest with a kitchen knife in retaliation. They were on better terms now, but it had devastated Arthur's trust in anyone to stay kind to him.

"The betrothed may now exchange rings," Feliciano cooed with a sweet smile, beckoning the ring bearers closer. Grinning, Arthur lifted the ring from Alfred's cushion, before taking Yao's hand and gently slipping it on the appropriate finger. Yao gulped and did his best to follow in fashion, taking the ring from Kiku and putting it on Arthur's hand. There it was. Sealed and set. "I now pronounce you two as husbands! You may now kiss and seal your matrimony in proper fashion!"

Yao almost flinched when Arthur leant in, but quickly gained his composure and brushed his lips against Ivan's. Wait a minute. Yao opened his eyes, feeling stupid that he'd just imagined Arthur as his old boyfriend. What the fuck was wrong with him! At the damned altar, and finding himself more in love with Ivan than he was with Arthur. This felt like a mistake; Arthur didn't taste as sweet as Ivan did, he couldn't match up to Ivan in the bedroom, he didn't have those beautiful features that Yao started to crave-..

"You alright, love?" Arthur asked quietly, cupping Yao's cheeks and gently kissing his lips for a second longer.

"I'm fine," he laughed softly. "Just happy. I've got butterflies." Yao had a bad habit of growing one too many lies. "Kiss me again, you bastard," he hummed, puckering up for his husband. Applause sounded throughout the venue, after which the ceremony itself came to a close.

* * *

"The food here is so great," moaned Arthur as he filled his plate with various treats and cake. Yao was more content carrying a bottle of wine and gulping from it now and then. In fact, he was pretty drunk already from some baiju he'd managed to sneak in to the reception. And really? He quite needed to be so. He was getting married to a man who he didn't even love.

"It's bottom-rate because I didn't cook it," Yao argued, grabbing a slice of cake and shoving it into his mouth.

"Aren't I a lucky man to have you cook for me for the rest of my life," Arthur swooned. Even in his drunk state of mind, Yao knew that Arthur must have been acting for the public eye of the reception party. He must have been. Wasn't that how he always was? Or perhaps Yao was trying to convince himself that Arthur was the bad guy here.

"Only because you will make my kitchen smell bad if I let you cook!" Yao slurred, clinging loosely onto Arthur's tux top. "Let's conshumate our marreg."

Arthur raised a brow, petting Yao's head. "You seem pretty drunk, Yao. Too much champagne?"

"Wine," Yao argued, shoving the bottle in Arthur's direction and almost throwing it all over him.

"Easy, boy," Arthur scoffed, taking the bottle from Yao's loose fingers, and putting it aside. Then, just like that, Arthur led him out of the crowded venue, and together, they managed to slip into the night undetected.

Arthur didn't have such high standards as Ivan, and he too had consumed enough alcohol to push him past tipsy. He wasn't really badly drunk, though. Just a little. Unlike Yao. They ended up in a darkened alley, Yao's back pressed against the wall as he wailed and writhed and moaned in the wonder of intercourse, Arthur thrusting away. Yao was also in a bit of pain, as there hadn't been any lube handy. As Yao reached his climax, he yelped out a curt 'Ivan', not even realising his mistake. Arthur noticed, though, and slowly pulled out, staring at his drunken husband.

"Yeah!" Yao exclaimed, slumping against the wall as dopamine flooded his system. "Lov' you, Arthur," he slurred heavily, closing his eyes. "Artaa…"

"Yeah.. You too," Arthur said quietly, leaning in against Yao and resting his lips on the man's neck. After this, they both managed to somehow get their clothes back on, and Arthur had enough common sense to hail a cab. They were back at their place shortly, with Yao still clinging to Arthur and smelling his clothes. Their place itself was an apartment, originally Arthur's, and they had moved in together a few months ago.

"We're home now," Arthur commented, yawning and stumbling through the room, Yao still holding onto him. He managed to trip and fall down, with Yao coming straight down on top of him, Yao's stomach to his back.

"You haf' always ben such a kults!" Yao cried and laughed, nuzzling against the back of Arthur's neck. Arthur didn't even bother getting up, knowing that Yao was going to win that battle.

"No I haven't!" Arthur retorted hotly.

"You can't even denny it," Yao cooed, gently hitting the back of Arthur's head. "Chros, Iven."

"Who's Ivan?" asked Arthur, yawning and closing his eyes. It seemed the drink was getting to him. Yao caught the contagious yawn, and was asleep in seconds. Unable to think straight with such a fuzzy mind, Arthur too fell asleep, his husband snoring loudly on top of him. He would ask tomorrow, if he could even remember this night.

* * *

**this one may be short**

**but its the calm before the storm, my friends**


	3. Chapter 3

**prepare yourselves**

* * *

Yao snorted awake, head spinning at the sound he'd just made. Ow. He hadn't been hungover, truly, painfully hungover, in quite some time. He certainly hadn't missed the experience. Feeling gross, he shifted off the floor- Arthur, actually, and staggered up to his feet. Not even noticing Arthur stir, Yao toddled to the bathroom, staring at his reflection like he was in some angsty movie or something and was judging himself. Really, he was, though. He was a terrible person who didn't even know what love was, nevermind how to spend it. Yao's love was cheap and wasted and given without take. That was hardly fair, now, was it?

After staring for long enough, he shaved and washed his face, splashing water in his baggy eyes. Ugh. As he started to undress, Arthur caught his attention. "So, who's Ivan?" yawned Arthur, helping Yao slide his clothes off. Yao glanced over his shoulder, and, once voice of clothing, Yao turned around to face him, leaning a little against Arthur.

"Hm? Ivan's an old friend. Why ask?" Yao mused quietly, too tired to be standing up without support.

"I think you mistook me for him last night," murmured Arthur, he too shedding his clothes and following Yao into the shower. "Kind of embarrassing, eh, old chap?"

"I'm not old," huffed Yao, sneakily changing the subject. "I am just mature. Like a fine wine!"

"What does that make me, piss whiskey?" Arthur mused, turning the water on and almost jumping when it was too cold. Yao too stepped out of the way of the water until it was comfortably hot, and the two moved closer again.

"Yes. You are piss whiskey, Arthur." Yao decided, closing his eyes.

Arthur's hands ran along Yao's sides, and Yao wasn't sure whether Arthur was washing him or just taking the excuse to touch him in some special places. Probably the latter, but Yao was a little too distracted to mind. After a little more 'washing', Arthur started to run shampoo and conditioner through Yao's hair, combing it gently with his fingers. Yao felt almost ill at that, as he remembered it was something Ivan used to do. He'd only told Arthur he should do it all that time ago because Yao remembered loving it so much from Ivan. Speak of the devil, and he will appear; Yao's phone began to ring from his trouser pocket.

"I should get that," Yao murmured softly, resting against Arthur.

"I've got it, love," Arthur pouted, drying his hands on a towel before stepping out of the shower and finding the ringing phone in Yao's discarded pants. Yao simply continued to shower as Arthur accepted the call and lifted the phone to his ear.

"_Hey, Yao!_" came the cheery Russian voice on the other end. "_What's up-! Ah, oh my, I missed you last night! You should have stayed at my place, really. We can make up for lost sex time when you come over today!_" Arthur simply stared at the ground, throat going dry. "_Because you should definitely come over today! We can cuddle on my couch and watch movies and perhaps get a little more loving in, _nyet_?_" He didn't say a word, just looking up at Yao in the shower. Yao, feeling eyes on his back, turned, and raised a brow.

"Arthur, who is it?" he asked in a yawn, running his fingers through his wet hair.

"I don't know," Arthur muttered, ignoring a worried '_Yao? Are you there?_' from the phone as he moved it from his ear. "Why don't _you_ tell _me_? Why don't you tell me who you're cheating on me with?!"

Yao jolted in surprise, banging his elbow against the shower tap. After hastily turning the water off, Yao tried his best not to panic. "Uh-" he stammered quietly, stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist. "Arthur, I swear-"

"Is it that Ivan kid you kept going on about?" Arthur snapped.

"Don't jump to conclusions-"

"You cried out his name during sex!" he exclaimed, throwing Yao's phone at him in a fit of rage. Yao was trying to take this seriously, but Arthur was pretty naked. "Fucksake, Yao! You just have him calling you so casually?! You were dodging my questions before, too!"

Yao flinched under the weight of Arthur's accusations, and wondered if this was how his day-old marriage was going to fall apart. "Just.. Just answer me, Yao!" Arthur said weakly, voice cracking a bit. Trying to stay calm Yao dried himself and dressed, still trying to think of any proper words to say. Of course, nothing would make Arthur believe him. Just glancing to the Brit let Yao know that he was breaking a heart that very moment. "Talk to me!" Arthur snapped, tears welling up in the corners of his softening green eyes. "Just tell me what's going on!"

When Yao didn't answer, and just looked up at his husband with weak eyes, Arthur bit his lip. "Get out," he mumbled hoarsely. Yao flinched and slowly put his towels away, lips parting without a sound.

"Arthur-.." he managed, trying not to choke on his words.

"Just get out!" the blond cried, pointing aggressively to the door. "Get out of my home! Come get your things tomorrow! I never bloody had you pinned for the faithful type!"

Yao weakly quivered where he stood, in shock. "I-.." he mumbled, but knew his defeat, and slowly moved out of the room. Arthur slammed the door behind him with much more force than necessary. Somehow, Yao left the apartment, not even remembering to take his bag. The street felt awfully cold; winter mornings weren't exactly Yao's favourite; and his wet hair was terribly cold against his back. He tottered down the street, bare feet treading the cement blindly. Everything was a blur, and his mind was a mess.

It was his fault, wasn't it? He couldn't even stay faithful to a man he'd known for years, should a lovely young man of his past come into the picture again. He pretended it meant nothing. He had forgotten how much Arthur actually cared for him, and it was easy to do so once enveloped in the lie he told himself. He told himself that sleeping with Ivan wasn't going to be a problem. It was only going to be a one time thing, he had thought. And it was, for what he knew. But just that one mistake had caused a heartbreak, and shattered what was going to be a nice marriage.

Yao didn't even know if he truly loved Arthur. He decided he mustn't. Otherwise, would he sleep with that old flame of his? He wasn't sure if he could love two people at once. But those things he'd said to Ivan! He was with Arthur for only the money? Was that true? Yao found himself questioning every thought of love about either Arthur or Ivan as he trudged down the street, shivering in cold.

"Yao?" asked Ivan, turning from where he'd been staring up at a staggeringly tall apartment building. Ivan was not the man Yao wanted to see.

"Ivan," he mumbled in response.

"You obviously don't live in your old apartment anymore," chuckled the merry Russian, tilting his head and smiling kindly down at Yao. "I've been waiting here since I called. Did you get that, at all? I heard some voices on the phone, but they were hard to here."

"You fucking asshole!" Yao shouted, stepping forward and shoving Ivan. Ivan barely moved, simply changing his expression to one of concern and peering down at his friend.

"Something the matter?" Ivan said kindly, brows knitting together.

"This is all your fucking fault!" Yao barked, pounding his other fist against Ivan's chest. "You idiot! How dare you trick me into having sex with you!" he howled, screwing his eyes tightly shut as he released a barrage of punches onto Ivan's hardy chest.

"I wasn't a trick," he mumbled. "You came willingly, Yao," he said softly, catching one of Yao's fists.

"You've fucked up my marriage, you piece of shit!" Yao wailed, swinging his free fist up and into Ivan's face. Ivan staggered back, reeling in pain and holding his nose to stop the blood from going down his face.

"Marriage?" Ivan said quietly. "Y-you're married?"

Yao continued his angered rambling. "You pressured me into it, I didn't even want to, I-"

"I didn't know you were married.. I didn't-"

"You tricked me into fucking loving you! I don't love you anymore! I hate you!" Yao screeched, voice raising far above moderate level. "You asshole, I thought maybe I could have a good fucking marriage, but no! Fuck you!" Tears rolled down Yao's face as he continued trying to strike Ivan. Ivan simply stepped back, but didn't stop Yao from striking him. He started to cry also, although quietly, and not as messily as Yao.

"I didn't know, Yao," he said softly, feeling his heart break in his chest. Yao was too blinded by rage and upset to see how badly he was hurting the man. "You could have told me. I wouldn't have.. I wouldn't have slept with you," he mumbled. Ivan doubted Yao was even listening, as he was punching his chest and crying loudly. "Maybe.." he mumbled, grabbing Yao's wrists and shoving them away from himself. Yao fell silent, and Ivan's soft eyes hardened when he looked down at the pitiful man. "Maybe I have been wrong about you." After a moment, Ivan turned, and started to walk away.

Yao had a chance to stop him. He could have cried out a sorry, he could have reached out and stopped Ivan from leaving. But he didn't. He stood there, shell-shocked, as yet another lover let go. Just like he'd stood and watched Arthur's heart break, he watched Ivan's shatter as he walked away down the cold morning street. Yao sank to his knees, slumping against the wall of a building. He stayed like that for the rest of the day, crying into his hands and ignoring the curious passersby.

* * *

"I want a divorce." Arthur muttered. It was the next morning, and Yao had returned as if he could possibly fix things with Arthur.

"What?" Yao mumbled, feeling stupid in the fact that he was having trouble comprehending just why Arthur was so _incredibly_ mad. "Look, with Ivan, it was a one time thing-" he tried to explain.

"And why should I believe you?" the man said rather curtly. "Haven't you been fucking that man since high school?"

"He moved out of Canada," Yao said quietly, exasperated. "He only came back because he came with a friend-"

"Yeah, right." Arthur grunted. "I let you go, once, because you kissed Romulus while you were drunk," he muttered. "How do I know you didn't have something with him, too?"

"Arthur, honestly, he and I are just friends-"

"Bullshit. Pack your things and get out."

Yao pursed his lips and got to packing a bag with everything he couldn't bear to leave behind. He knew he probably wasn't coming back here. He'd shattered Arthur's already broken trust into a million tiny little pieces.

"Give me your ring. I can still get back cash for it," Arthur growled softly, holding out his palm rather expectantly.

"No," Yao said bluntly, nicking the money Arthur hid away in his pillowcase when the man wasn't looking. "I'll sell it myself. I need the money more than you."

"Yes, right, because your selfishness is more important than my brother's bloody cancer," Arthur grunted, flexing his fingers to invite returning the ring. Yao didn't do that.

"What?" Yao murmured.

"Oh, yes, I suppose you forgot I have all this money for a reason. I decide to bloody spend some of it on you, and I get bugger all beside a broken heart and an asshole in my apartment." Arthur spat quietly. "Give me the ring."

Yao considered putting the money back, but he was selfish and greedy, and did not. He finished packing his bag, the wad of cash buried safely within his things. Arthur just seethed as Yao headed to the door. "I could've loved you forever, Yao," he muttered quietly, watching with hurt and scornful eyes.

"Sorry," Yao murmured, more in reflex than actual regret. He wasn't even sure what he felt, other than disconnected and cold toward the world.

He made his way out, checking his phone. Why did it cross his mind to call Ivan? He wasn't quite sure. It was a stupid idea. He lifted the phone to his ear, and called the man, but was left hanging. Of course. Ivan wouldn't want to talk to him anymore. Yao was a bratty man, an idiot who lost control of himself when he didn't get what he wanted. Pathetic, really. Feet heavy as lead, Yao dragged himself down the street, being blown this way and that by the unforgiving wind. He had nowhere to go, no-one to run to. Arthur wanted a divorce. Ivan wouldn't want to see him. His family hated him. He was truly homeless and helpless. At least he had money.

* * *

Money couldn't buy happiness, not for Yao. Even with the money from the ring and the stash combined, all he bought was poison; drinks each night to keep him warm and slowly kill his liver. Warmth and an end to the melancholy seemed to be what Yao wanted. He never saw Ivan again, never even caught word of him on the wind. It was almost like he'd disappeared, his whole existence turned from old flame to a burnt crisp to ashes blowing away in the wind. Arthur was a whole different story.

Arthur still loved Yao. Of course he did. Yao had dismissed Arthur's ability to hold a grudge. Yao tried once to apologise, around a month after the divorce was properly filed. He showed up to Arthur's apartment, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He had the door slammed in his face. So once again, he headed out onto the street.

He didn't try to maintain any more relationships from that point; in fact, he never even tried to start them. Yao spent his evenings alone in the bar until someone told him he was too drunk to be there, and kicked him out onto the street. He lived a truly pathetic life, moping over his stupid mistakes and refusing to move on, like he was the center of the universe. He supposed, that's what he'd thought during the whole affair. He would stay high and dry, as long as neither party found out. But that plan had crashed down into an ocean of misfortune.

Yao wallowed in self-pity daily, and perhaps that was what triggered a kind of depression in him. Perhaps that kind of depression, that kind of aching in his head was what drew him back to Ivan's apartment. He had come uninvited, and he hadn't contacted Ivan in months. But some small part of him prayed that he would be accepted with open arms. He doubted it, but he could always pray to a god he didn't believe in.

"Ivan?" he said quietly, wrapping on Ivan's door with the back of his hand. "Ivan, are you there?" He mumbled tiredly, resting against the door. He didn't expect it to open, so when it did, Yao fell inward. He was expecting to fall into Ivan's arms even less than he'd expected the door to be answered. "Hi," he murmured wearily. Ivan, confused and concerned, helped Yao to stand up properly, and lowered his arms, pouting at the little man.

"_Privyet_," Ivan murmured softly, frowning. "Are you okay?"

"No, not really," Yao uttered softly. "Can I come in?"

Ivan was clearly hesitant, but he nodded, and shuffled to the side so Yao could trudge in. "Sit down on the couch," Ivan instructed quietly, doing so after Yao had collapsed down upon the sofa. "What's going on? Why have you come here?"

"Ivan," Yao sighed softly, turning over to face Ivan. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh," said Ivan, watching him cautiously. "You smell like bad gin."

"I've been drinking," Yao pointed out. "And thinking. But mostly drinking."

"I see."

"I made a mistake," he breathed softly. "I don't want to be alone anymore, Ivan."

"No-one should be alone," Ivan mumbled. "Yet I've been alone many years."

"I'm sorry, Ivan, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Yao repeated softly, slowly sitting up and staring weakly at Ivan. "I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for not telling you about the marriage, I-"

"Speaking of marriage, where is your wife?" Ivan said quietly.

"Husband," Yao corrected. "Ex-husband, actually. He.. found out about us, and divorced me," he nodded with a deep gulp. "And I'm sorry, and I fucked up, Ivan."

"I'm glad you see that now," Ivan said quietly. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have insisted we make love. But I did not know, so I do not regret my decision."

"Do you still love me?" Yao murmured. "Can we just be for a while?"

"I do," admitted Ivan. "But after such hurt, do you really think I'd just fall into your arms so easily?" he said quietly. "I want your honesty, Yao. I don't wish to be thrown into a lie again."

"I'll be better," Yao promised quietly, looking down at his lap. "I'll.. I'll try not to keep any secrets from you."

"I need better than you trying," Ivan insisted softly.

"I won't keep any secrets from you," Yao corrected himself. "Can we ever go back to how we were? Or have I messed that up for us?"

"Perhaps, one day." Ivan nodded, shuffling closer and gently putting an arm around Yao. This seemed to be a turning point, as Yao let out a soft sound and hugged Ivan properly, looping his arms tight around the man's thick back, and pressing his face into Ivan's chest. Ivan lay back and took Yao with him, and he stroked Yao's hair as the older man cried against him.

"Be calm," said Ivan after a while, after Yao's crying had faded to a soft sniveling. "I have you."

"Thank you, Ivan," Yao breathed softly. "I'll try so hard for your sake," he murmured quietly, lifting his head and resting his chin against Ivan's chest. "I won't-"

"You don't need to make all these promises, Yao. I know," Ivan said quietly, hesitantly leaning down and brushing his lips against Yao's forehead. "I understand. Thank you, for your word and your heart."

It seemed that from the ashes of an old flame, a fledgling was born. And as Ivan and Yao would start to heal each other's hearts, the little bird would start to burst into flame and take flight as a mighty phoenix, raining love down onto the two. Perhaps this time, they wouldn't flicker out.

* * *

**end it on a metaphor, wham bam thank you m'am**

**there we go! i hope you guys enjoyed it :3c**

**please review, rate, and leave feedback as you see fit! **


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